


The Good, The Bad, And The Slytherin

by LilithDeniel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th Year Hogwarts, 8th year, Drarry, Gay, Gideamus, Gift, Hogwarts, M/M, Multi, Nuna, Post-War, Post-War Hogwarts, Truth or Dare, drinking game, like SOOOOOOO gay, romione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilithDeniel/pseuds/LilithDeniel
Summary: Harry receives a late birthday present from George by Owl and things start to get interesting pretty quickly...





	The Good, The Bad, And The Slytherin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SereneFreakGeek](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneFreakGeek/gifts).



> Heyyo! I'm back, and I have a new work! This is a gift to @Serenefreakgeek (tumblr and A03- GO CHECK THEM OUT, THEY'RE AMAZING!!) cause they told me they love the 8th Year Truth or Dare, and to be honest, I do too, SO here it is :) I hope you enjoy, and as always, please leave all constructive criticism in the comments section, as I love hearing feedback from you guys and knowing how to improve my work. Enjoy

The 8th Year Common Room was finally calm tonight, Harry mused as he wandered down the stairs that lead to the dormitories and joined Hermione and Ron at their table across the room. The two were seated across from each other in the single circular armchair that surrounded almost the entire table, both glaring down at the chessboard on the table between them, clearly caught in deep thought. Harry sat down, unnoticed by either of them.

  
Hermione gave an irritated huff as she pushed a flyaway strand of her unruly hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear with one hand, and used the other to direct her rook forward two paces. A smug expression slid across Ron’s face as his Knight moved to the left, lifting its sword and shattering Hermione’s piece, the shards flying across the table and disappearing onto the floor.

  
“Ronald!” Hermione cried, throwing herself back into the armchair and folding her arms. “I give up!” Her glower finally slid to her left as she noticed Harry sitting beside her for the first time, his face a conflicted contortion of amusement and the will to hide it in fear of being chastised by his friend. “Oh, hello Harry. Everything alright?” The raven-haired boy nodded, then purposely glanced between his two best friends.

  
“Everything alright with you?” Hermione straightened herself at the sight of Harry’s tiny grin, sliding across the seat and into a surprised Ron’s arms.

  
“Of course; Ronald and I were just having a particularly easy game of chess, actually. Care to join? I’m sorry to tell you, but there’s a very large possibility I might win again.” Harry grinned at the puzzled look that spread across Ron’s face for a moment before it turned into admiration. “Right, Ronald?” The redhead placed a tender kiss on the top of his girlfriend’s head, grinning into her hair, which had raised towards his face from the static.

  
“’Course, Mione. I don’t know why I ever thought I could beat you.” Pleased, Hermione gently detangled herself from Ron and turned to Harry.

  
“What do you have there, Harry?” Harry placed the small parcel he’d been holding in his hands on the table, moving the chess set aside as they all leaned in to examine it.

  
“Gift from George. A late birthday present, I think.” The wrapping was sparkling with the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes logo, and tiny moving images of exploding fireworks, flying across the paper and exploding into various different colors.

  
Ron huffed as he pulled the parcel into his hands and shook it, glaring down at it as if the thing inside had personally offended him.

  
“How come George never gives me stuff from the shops? All I got from him for my birthday last year was a Grow-Your-Own-Gnomes set from Gambol and Japes, and we all know what ended up happening to that!” The trio had experimented with the Grow-Your-Own-Gnomes set over the summer before Hogwarts had returned (newly rebuilt from the war) and had served quite the punishment from Mrs. Weasley after the Gnomes had escaped into the garden, increasing the Weasley Gnome infestation to impressive numbers the garden had never seen before. Needless to say, they had spent the entire rest of the summer chasing after the Gnomes and flying them over the fence. (“Saviour of the Wizarding World or not, Harry, you must take responsibility for your actions!”)

  
“Can I open it?” Harry shrugged, leaning in to watch as Ron tore at the wrapping, and pulled out a large vial of red liquid, and a stack of cards. Ron squinted down at the bottle, passing the cards to Hermione, who was almost visibly itching to read them. “… _Self-Replenishing Firewhisky_?” Ron read the label, frowning in astonishment. He placed the bottle on the table and began fishing down the side of the sofa. He pulled out his wand and popped the bottle open with a quick Diffindo, picking it up again and putting it to his lips. Before he could swallow, Hermione’s hand flew out, snatching the bottle from his hands.

  
“Hey!” The redhead protested loudly, glaring at his girlfriend as he tried to grab the bottle back.

  
“Stop. It’s been spiked.”

  
“What?” Harry asked, taking the bottle from Hermione and glancing at Ron, who had paled rather rapidly, and wondering why it was always the redhead who was poisened.

  
“The bottle’s been spiked with Veritaserum. It’s a game; that’s what the cards are for. It’s Truth or Dare.” Harry glanced down at the bottle, and sure enough, in fine print read the words, _may contain traces of Veritaserum_.

  
“That sneaky git!” Ron exclaimed, snatching the bottle back from Harry’s hands. Hermione, now apparently unconcerned for her boyfriend's wellbeing, was reading the instructions written on the first card.

  
“ _Wizarding Truth Or Dare. How to Play: Each player must take a glass of Firewhisky before joining the game. The youngest wizard or witch chooses a card from the shuffled stack, (players must be over 17 years, or the game will not work). The cards have been charmed to change depending on the experience, bravery, and number of the people playing. Depending on the target’s personality, (and a few other variables) the cards will change difficulty level from easy, medium, and hard. Each player has an equal number of truths or dares (20 truths, 20 dares.) This can be used as a way to prioritize. If a player backs out without finishing all truths and dares, the game has been designed to forbid them to ever play again. Enjoy_.” Hermione looked up, bright eyes meeting Harry’s. “We should play!”

  
“Hermione, it’s 17 plus,” Harry said wearily, taking the instructions card and examining it.

  
“We’re all over 17 here. And we’ll only do a few. If it gets too… inappropriate, we can just stop.”

  
“No, you can’t.” Harry frowns down at the card. “Says here that the loser is the first to back out. Last man standing wins.” Ron perks up at this, eyes finally dragging away from the small novel written on the back tag of the Firewhisky.

  
“Loser?” He asks, grinning. “That’ll be you, Harry.” Eyes blazing, Harry felt a tiny flame of competitiveness light inside himself.  
“No way, mate. You’re not nearly Gryffindor enough for this game.” Harry watched as his friend sat up straighter, ears tinging slightly pink.

  
“Fine.” The redhead says, conjuring three glasses and pouring them each a drink with the Firewhisky. Sure enough, when he places it back on the table, the almost half empty bottle is suddenly full again. Ron gulps back his drink in one swallow, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and reaching for a card. Hermione, glass now empty too, reaches out and slaps her boyfriend’s hand away from the pile of cards.

  
“Youngest first.” She says, gesturing to Harry. Ron grumbles but sits back. Harry slowly does his shot, determined to win as he reaches for a card. It reads,  
“ _Ron: Truth or Dare_?” Ron grins, sitting up and leaning forward in his seat.  
“Dare.” He says definitely.

  
“…Rub your stomach and pat your head at the same time?” Harry says unsurely, the other two frowning with him. Ron did so easily, still frowning when Harry placed the card down on the table.

  
“Thought this was supposed to be 17 plus?” He asks, glancing at the stack of other cards sitting in the center of the table.  
“Perhaps it gets harder?” Hermione offers, before nudging Ron to take one. The redhead does so and grins as he reads the card.

  
“’Mione. Truth or Dare?”

  
“Dare,” Hermione answers decisively, crossing one leg over the other.

  
“Kiss the person on your right.” Ron grins as Hermione grabs for the card.  
“That’s not what it says! Give me that, you great sod!” Hermione snatches t

he card and glares down at it.  
“Oh.” She says defeated, before reluctantly leaning to her right and giving Ron a quick peck on the lips.

  
“You can do better than that, Hermione! If you don’t do it properly, you get disqualified. You don’t want to _lose_ , do you?” Growling slightly, Hermione pushes herself closer, shooting Harry a sympathetic look, before capturing her boyfriend's mouth in her own.

  
Harry looks down at his feet, cheeks burning as he waits for the kiss to finish. Several moments past, and when he looks up, the two are still engaged in their passionate embrace. He jumps as the sofa dips beside him and then grins when he is greeted with a flash of Weasley-Red hair.

  
“Harry.” Ginny greets, grinning as she conjures another glass and pours herself a drink. “Ron. Hermione.” As if she had thrown a huge bucket of ice water over them, the two sprung apart, blushing. Hermione brushed herself off, straightening herself as she reached for a card.

  
“Ginny.” The curly-haired girl replied, eyes darting as the pink on her cheeks trickled down her neck. She glanced down at her card, the scarlet shade of her face darkening as her eyes traced over the box-like font. “I need another drink if I’m going to do this.” She muttered, grabbing her glass and refilling it. She downed the shot, eyes blazing slightly as she sets the glass back on the table. “Gin: Truth or Dare?” The Gryffindor, deviant and brave as ever, grinned.

  
“Truth.” The three watched Hermione blush horrendously as she forced the question out.

  
“What’s your biggest-” She hesitated. Suddenly determined, probably from a personal mental pep-talk, Hermione let out a huff of air and finished; “Turn on.” Ginny, blushing slightly, but unable to lie, puffed out her chest slightly.

  
“When… when they take control, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape… But then it feels good; Fuck it feels so good, and-” Ginny stopped abruptly as Dean and Seamus wandered over to their table, heads tipped on the side, eyeing the bottle of Firewhisky, and hands clasped tightly together.

  
“Hey guys, watcha doing?” Dean plonked down on Ginny’s right, taking up the last of the edge of the sofa, and Harry shifted over so Seamus could squeeze in between him and Ginny on her left.

  
After the war, Harry finally had time to discover himself. He came out as Bi and broke up with Ginny, so the two of them could go their separate ways. Although; it hadn’t been much of a breakup. They had both discussed it, and Ginny had decided that she had wanted to explore herself as well, so it was a peaceful ending to their relationship. They were still very close friends. In fact, Ginny was the only one who Harry felt like he could talk to about his sexuality. Ron and Hermione; sure, they accepted him, but they were pretty much occupied with each other a majority of the time now. Ginny… Ginny understood him.

  
Over the last few months, the red-headed girl had settled into a polyamorous relationship with Dean and Seamus, and Harry had honestly never seen her happier.

  
“Truth or dare,” Ginny answered suddenly, blushing as she reached for a card from the deck, viciously indicating with her eyes to Hermione to put her card down. Hermione did so, conjuring another two glasses for Dean and Seamus, who hummed happily as they poured the Firewhisky and did their shots.

  
“Harry!” Ginny’s face was split in a grin as he looked up from his Firewhisky, eyes wide in terror. “Truth or dare?” Harry gulped, glancing around. Ginny was ruthless, Gryffindor and… Ginny was Ginny. Harry knew she wouldn’t hold back at all if he chose dare, and he would much rather maintain what was left of his dignity, thank you very much. 'Truth' couldn’t be that bad, could it? He had to do it. If he backed out of the game now, all his friends would laugh. If he could defeat Voldemort, he could play a damn game of Truth or Dare.

  
“Truth.” He answered seriously, his façade ruined by his fidgeting fingers.

  
“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done to attract a crush?” Ginny grinned; the cards thought up the questions, but it didn’t change that she was still smug about the fact that Harry had to answer them.

  
“Um…” Harry shifted in his seat, feeling all eyes on him as he tried to fight the Veritaserum. “I don’t know… I’m not much of an attracter really; I just kind of wait for them to come to me…”

  
“Hence, why you’re not in a relationship.” Hermione chimed in, eyes slightly glassy already from the alcohol.

  
“Not true.” Said Dean, a little too loudly. “Harry could have any witch or wizard in the whole of damn UK. It’s just that he has standards…” The boy snickered along with the rest of the group.

  
“Shut it.” Harry ground out through clenched teeth, face burning.

  
“Tall, blonde standards…” Ginny whispered eagerly, giggling brightly.

  
“I said shut it!” Harry scowled, feeling a frown etch onto his red face.

  
“Fine, fine,” Seamus muttered, reaching for another drink.

  
“I suppose… I did save their life once if that’s what you want to call it.” Face burning, Harry glared as Dean started chuckling.

  
“So he’s a ‘them’, now, Harry?” Harry scowled, shoulders tensing.

  
“I said fuck off!” Harry pulled a card from the pile, glancing at Ron as he did so, grinning at the look of utter mortification on his face. Ron was honestly the straightest guy Harry knew. He looked down at his card, grinning. “Dean. Truth or Dare.” The boy straightened up in his seat, suddenly serious. He adjusted his sweater carefully before answering.

  
“Dare, of course.” Harry grinned.

  
“Kiss everyone playing.” Dean’s confident grin faltered for a moment, but he stood up surely, making his way over to Hermione. Harry watched as Ron tensed, eyes blazing as Dean gave his reluctant girlfriend a quick peck on the lips. Dean rounded on him, and the redhead’s already pale face seemed to turn even whiter.

 

“Shit! No, no, no, shit, no!” Ron pushed himself back into the sofa, turning his head to the side and shaking it rapidly.

  
“Come on, Ron, just one-”

  
“No, fuck, no…”

  
“Weasley, if you back out, then I have to, too! You’re not chicken, are you?” Ron scowled, lifting his head back into view to make a point.

  
“Fuck you, I’m not chic-” Dean took his chance, diving in and pecking Ron on the lips. The redhead roared in disgust, eyes wide as Dean stepped away, a smug grin on his face. “Ugh! Disgusting…” He wiped his mouth ferociously on his Weasley sweater, shoving himself into the couch, as close to Hermione as he could get.

  
The group's chuckles died down as Dean turned towards Harry. In a panic, Harry glanced down at the card. It didn’t say _everyone playing, except the card reader_ , like he wished it did. Resigning to the fact that he’d have to kiss one of his friends, Harry gave in. Dean kissed him on the mouth, both boys wiping their own afterward, and laughing about how Harry should join him, Seamus and Ginny. Dean finished his dare happily, giving Seamus a long, lingering kiss, and then doing the same with Ginny. Harry noticed Ron, still pale, scowling from across the couch as he watched his sister kiss him.

  
“Ugh, I can taste Ron!” Ginny giggled, pulling away and wiping her mouth. The group burst out laughing. Dean dropped back into his seat, taking a swig of Firewhisky straight from the bottle, and then snatching up another card.

  
“Ron. Truth or dare?” The redhead gave a sigh of exertion, took a huge swig of the drink before stating,

  
“Truth.” Dean read from the card, mouth quirking.

  
“Of all the people in this room, who do you consider the sluttiest?” Ron grinned at that, staring pointedly at Dean, and opening his mouth to answer. A look of utter confusion swept over his face when no words came out.

  
“It’s the Veritaserum.” Hermione quipped, grinning as she poured herself another drink.

  
“But he is a slut!” He exclaimed, glaring across at Dean, who now had both arms slung around his partners. Harry leaned back in his seat, wondering who he’d chose if he had to answer. Parkinson, probably.

  
Decisively, Ron’s eyes landed on each face in the circle. He stood up suddenly, glancing over the tops of their heads as he examined who was unlucky enough to be in the 8th Year Common Room. Luna Lovegood appeared to be reading a torn copy of The Quibbler by one of the smaller fireplaces. Padma Patil and Lavender Brown were conversing quietly in the corner, and Harry grinned when Ron looked away with a shudder. So did Hermione. Ernie Macmillian and Justin FinchFletchy were playing a rather eventful game of exploding snap by the windows, and Daphne Greengrass, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbot were all apparently very engaged in a serious game of Pygmy Puff Pelmanism. The Slytherins, always together, had claimed possession of the warmest fireplace, scattering themselves over the squashiest armchairs, and were talking loudly. Harry felt his face warm slightly as his heart faltered for a moment.

  
Pansy Parkinson let out an ear-splitting cackle from the other side of the room, and Blaise Zabini grinned in turn, slapping Gregory Goyle on the arm in a playful manner. The group turned back to Ron, who had sat down, eyes decisive.

  
“Parkinson. Definitely.” Harry glanced back over the edge of the sofa, watching as the Slytherins quieted themselves at the sound of Pansy’s name. The girl stood, adjusting her short skirt, and dragging Theodore Nott up with her. When her eyes met with Harrys, she nodded slightly, and Harry nodded back, before sliding back down his side of the couch and whispering,

  
“They’re coming over here.”  
Pansy approached their group, Theo following not far behind. She beamed at each of them, not forgetting to eye the bottle of alcohol on the table.

  
“Potter.” She greeted politely. “You talking about me, Weasley?” Ron puffed out his chest.

  
“Yeah, I was, actually, Parkinson. We’re playing Truth or Dare. Wanna join?” To the group’s surprise, the Slytherin grinned, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig.

  
“Sure. We’ll have to move to the floor, though; there is simply not enough room on these couches.” They all stood, most still in shock from her friendliness.

  
Inter-House Unity had been promoted after the war and pushed even further into the spotlight by the Mixed-Housed 8th Year Common Room. McGonagall had decided that they were old enough now to stand each other and be with people unlike themselves, and as a result, they had all been placed in one dorm together.

  
Hermione levitated the remaining furniture to the sides of the room, with some help from Ginny and Pansy, and they all sat down in a circle. Harry crossed his legs, moving aside to make room for more players.

  
“Hi Harry,” Neville plonked down beside him, crossing his legs and grinning. “how’s it going?” Harry smiled, pouring himself another drink in prep for the next round.

  
“Not bad. You?”

  
“Bloody fantastic, actually.” The boy smiled, glancing over to where Luna had joined the circle, grinning. “Just asked Luna out to Hogsmeade this Weekend.”

  
“I take it went well?” Harry assumes, smiling at his friend when he nods. “Well done, mate.” Neville beamed, conjuring and glass and taking a shot.

  
Harry glanced around the group, which was now rather large. The only people left in the common room sitting alone were still sitting by the fire, conversing in loud whispers. Harry watched as Blaise attempted to pull a certain blond-haired boy, who was planted firmly in his armchair, towards them. Blaise groaned, staring at the drinking game across the room in longing.

  
“Come on, Draco!” The blond shook his head, closing his Muggle Studies book with a sigh.

  
“I have to study, Zabini. I’m already failing Muggle Studdies.” Blaise tugged Draco up and out of the chair.

  
“Just for ten minutes. It’ll be fun. And then you can go study later…” With that, Draco was tugged towards the game, much despite his protests. The two collapsed into a sitting position across the circle from Harry.

  
“Potter.” Draco acknowledged courtly, and Harry blushed slightly, nodding back with a small smile.

  
“Draco.” After the war, the two had forged what could be called some form of friendship, based on light arguments about subjects they were both passionate about, and helping the other out every so often. Although the didn’t speak regularly, their famous rivalry which had lasted all their school years had eventually turned into disgruntled politeness, to mutual respect, to a better understanding of the other. They weren’t that close… not really.

  
They just shared notes every once in a while. Or had the occasional chat on the way back up from the Quidditch fields. Or maybe even sat with each other in the Great Hall for supper once or twice. Three times at most.

  
The game was in full swing now, and people everywhere were laughing, cringing, and blushing in excessive amounts. Within twenty minutes, Lavender had revealed she had a foot fetish, Ernie had given Justin a lap dance, and Pansy had gone down on Pavarti behind an armchair. All too drunk to worry if the game was getting too out of hand, Gryffindor Stupidity, alcohol, or both drove them further and further into the game.

  
“Draco. Truth or dare?” Blaise grinned drunkenly and leaned back on one palm, twisting the enchanted card in his other hand. Agitation swept across Draco’s pale features.

  
“I already told you; I’m not playi-” Draco’s response was cut short by a very serious, very angry, very stern, and slightly drunk look from Pansy.

  
“Draco if you don’t play this game I will personally break into your dorm and cut off your balls while you sleep. I will not have you let down our house!” Draco glared at the girl and gave a disgruntled grunt. Harry grinned at how easily Draco gave in when Pansy was involved.

  
“Fine.” The blond boy took a large gulp of Firewhisky and slammed the bottle back into the center of the circle, giving Pansy and Blaise a look that distinctly translated to ‘fuck you both’. Harry could feel the amusement tickling him, licking, urging him to laugh. “Truth.” Blaise’s face split into a menacing grin as he glanced down, read the card and then tossed it back into the pile.

  
“Ever kissed a boy?” Harry felt himself perk up at the question, watching with a slight smirk on his face as Draco’s ears turned pink, much like his face. Apparently, Draco has a very weak resilience to Veritaserum, because the blond answered almost immediately.

  
“N-no.” The nervous stutter rings in Harry’s ears as he watches the blond shoot daggers at his friends once more, before reaching into the circle for a card. Draco shrugged before looking up into the circle, meeting Harry’s eyes. “Po-Harry. Truth or dare?” Harry could feel that pesky blush returning as he answered,

  
“Truth.” Harry wanted to punch that stupid grin off Malfoy’s face as he read the question from the card.

  
“Is the person you last thought about whilst wanking in this circle?” Harry felt his heart stop for a moment, and he could feel the Veritaserum running through his veins, tainted with the strength of alcohol.

  
“Yes.” He said strongly, grabbing the bottle, taking a swig before snatching up a card and smirking at Draco’s dumbstruck face.

* * *

 

The game continued, and so did the drinking. People revealed things, too drunk to care what the others thought, or perhaps comforted by the presumption that it’ll all be forgotten by the morning. Seamus had embarked in an uncomfortably detailed answer to one question with an uncontrolled look on horror on his face the entire time, which envolved Seamus, bondage, Ginny, a strap-on, and a very mortified, but undeniably aroused Dean. Pansy had almost laughed at the question, “Kinkiest thing you’ve ever done”, specifying that she had once seduced a muggle man in an alleyway, into bending her over and fucking her on his motorcycle, (“Just to see what it was like,”). And Neville had surprised them all when he’d answered that yes, he has indeed gone down on a girl before.

  
“Harry.” Lavender giggled, eyes bright, and Harry tried not to wonder if it was genuine delight or alcohol making her this way. “Truth or-”

  
“Truth,” Harry answered, having decided to save his dares until later on in the game a few times back when Padma had backed out for being dared to play the rest of the game stark naked.

  
“Out of all the people here, who do you want to make out with the most?” Harry inhaled sharply, coughing violently as Firewhisky burned his throat, face turning beet red.

  
“Fuck!” He tore off his glasses and wiped his watering eyes, giving a nervous chuckle when he noticed the awkward silence in the room. “Um… I mean I never would- I mean in particular- that’s a hard question- um…” He could feel a tiny bead of sweat dripping down the back of his neck, and he wrung his hands, eyes wide and searching for something to save him from having to admit to his crush. “I mean- you’re all my friends- yes, even you, Parkinson, don’t give me that look- and I’d never snog a friend, not that I’d want to but-”

  
“-Harry, for the love of Merlin, just say it! We all know that you can resist Imperio and Veritaserum, you don’t have to rub it in!” Draco snapped from across the circle, drink sloshing slightly as he gestured wildly.

  
“I wasn’t-” Harry swallowed the remainder of his sentence as Hermione arched a dangerous eyebrow. “Fine. I guess… it would be you, Draco.”

  
Several things happened at once when Harry said that. Blaise inhaled his drink, much like Harry had a moment ago, eyes wide with laughter, and then fright as he began to choke. Pansy began smacking him hard on the back, beaming from ear to ear as she stared between the two boys. Ron, who had been halfway through a drunken stretch, tumbled over onto his side, smashing into Hermione, who had been looking smug, but now she had spilled her drink, rather wet. Draco froze, eyes darting from a very red Harry to a recovering Blaise, and a heaving Pansy. And Harry’s 90 percent sure he saw Dean and Ernie exchange five galleons in the corner of his eye.

  
“Saint Potter is gay?” Blaise had started laughing again, obnoxiously loud in the steady silence of the room.

  
“I’m not,” Harry said definitely, feeling his face start to redden even more.  
“But you just said, you’d-” Harry jumped slightly as Ginny stood in a sudden movement, slamming her drink to the floor and waving off a worried Dean.

  
“He’s Bi, actually. And if you have a problem with it, you can answer to me.” Blaise rolled his eyes dramatically, taking another chug of Firewhisky and nodding dismissively to Ginny.

  
“Keep your hair on, Weasley. I was joking; you think I’d make fun of him liking guys if my own best mate-” Blaise was then elbowed in the stomach. Hard.

  
“Enough.” Harry, who agreed wholly with Malfoy, nodded, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to coax away the redness, and reached for a card.

  
The game continued, and more and more people began to back out as it intensified. Theo had been dared to kiss a completely repulsed Blaise, Ginny had torn an awkward hole in her skirt from a bit too vigorous re-enactment of what it was like to be with both Dean and Seamus, and to put it bluntly, Draco was now wearing Harry’s glasses. The majority of the game was a little blurry for Harry (literally), but a particular milestone he remembered was when Hermione had to drag a very drunk Ron off to bed after he began asking why the ‘blond duckling was wearing Harry’s glasses’. The two said their goodnights (“Night everybod- Ow, RON!” “I couldn’t help it, ’Mione, the room is spinning, why is the room spinning…” and disappeared up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

  
By now, there were only 8 players left. It was getting rather late –or early, depending on opinion-, and it seemed that Harry had not been the only one to leave all his dares to the end.

  
“Longbottom,” Pansy slurred, giggling wildly as she forced the name out. Neville, for once, laughed with her, arm slung around a sleepy Luna as he threw back yet another shot. Harry, whom was a little tipsy, but had been careful to manage his alcohol in hopes it prevented him from doing anything he’d regret, was lazing back against one of the armchairs by the side of the room, grumbling to Dean how the floor was too hard for his arse, and yet refusing to do anything about it. “Dare or… dare?” Another fit of giggles followed, and Harry grinned, eyes wandering from his friends, over to Pansy’s right, where Draco was sitting beside her looking reckless, undone, and positively gorgeous. He had loosened his tie halfway through the game, and it now hung around his neck, just below his Adam’s Apple which bobbed every time he took a drink. His legs were spread carelessly, leaning back on both palms, his pale skin stretched over taut muscles were pressed against the thin white fabric of his shirt, and clearly visible. His hair, for once was mussed and had fallen out of place many hours ago, and to Harry, he had a distinct, beautiful, utterly desirable, ‘just fucked’ look to him that seemed to crash about at the edges of his mind, even with the assistance of alcohol and the eventfulness of their game.

  
“Dare.” Neville grinned, crossing his legs and sitting upright. Pansy snickered, eyes flashing as she tossed the card back into the pile, miscalculating the distance, and just missing giving Harry’s cheek a rather nasty paper cut by less than an inch.

  
“Every time Draco says Potter for the rest of the game, you have to take a shot.” Shrugging, Neville reached for a card.

  
“Easy.” Draco, who Harry noticed was looking rather annoyed perked up when Neville said his name.

  
“Dare or… well, that’s pretty much it. Just dare.” Draco rolled his eyes, hair falling forwards over his forehead slightly, and Harry pushed himself up into a proper sitting position. Harry glanced at Neville, who was grinning wildly, and Harry resented admitting to himself that he didn’t want to know if it was because of the dare, or because he was just that drunk. “Do a sexy dance for ten seconds.” Draco, who frowned for a moment, then grinned, stood up and brought his drink with him.

  
“Finally, some entertainment! You lot are honestly the more tiresome bunch I have ever met.” The blond jumped out of the way of a lazy smack from Pansy, taking a step to his left. His eyes began to travel, and before Harry knew it, they were locked with his. “Will you count for me, Potter?” Harry gulped and nodded, barely acknowledging Neville taking a shot in the corner of his eye. Draco then turned, facing the inner circle and began slowly playing with his tie. In denial that this was actually happening, in front of him, Harry gulped, eyes wide and knees drawn up to his chest to hide a steadily growing problem. Draco stopped, and turned back to Harry, grey eyes expectant. _Oh, Merlin what’s he going to say? Is he going to back out? Is he going to quit? No, not now, surely! Not after all this-_ “Well, go on then, Potter. Start counting.” Harry felt himself let out a breath at the blond’s words, forcing his mouth to form coherent words. Neville took a shot.

  
“One.” Draco began to sway his hips slowly, moving them forward and back, eyes shut and face etched with sultry concentration. His mouth, lips parted slightly, peeked upwards just a tad at the corners, and he slowly exhaled, before snagging one of those luscious lips between perfect white teeth. Harry shifted his position, sitting cross-legged and placing his hands in a ball in his lap.

  
“T-two…” Draco began to run long fingers up his side, starting at his hip, teasing with his belt buckle for a moment before the fingertips began tickling their way upwards, brushing his ribcage. Other arm in the air, Draco lightly brushed a hand over a nipple, letting out a tiny exhale. Harry could feel his pupils dilating, he could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, but he couldn’t for the life of him tear his eyes away from the sight before him.

  
“Three.” Draco shook his hips steadily, raising both arms above his head and gently sliding his eyelids open. First, he glanced at the dumbstruck looks on Dean, Seamus and Ginny’s faces.

  
“Four.” Second, his eyes traveled lazily to the mad grin on Pansy’s face as she watched, support for her friend clear in he eyes. He shot a smile back at her, an actual smile, at the same moment he arched his back, rolling his hips forward into absolute nothingness. At the same moment, Harry decided he was going to die. Again. But this time, perhaps from lack of blood to the brain.

  
“Five” Draco began to spread his legs, lowering his hips and dipping into the movement. He braced either hand on each knee, and his eyes traveled further.

  
“S-six.” Draco’s eyes landed on Luna and Neville, who were both looking utterly confused, eyes wide, mouths wide open, and leaning back slightly.

  
“Sss… seven.” Draco turned to Harry, grey eyes locking with his in a gaze that Harry feared he’d have to hold forever. Draco brushed a light hand over his crotch, eyelids flickering from the movement as his hand traced higher. Eyes still locked with Harry’s, he brought his hand to his mouth, and very slowly, slipped just one of the digits between his lips.

  
“E-eight…” Draco sucked on the tip of his finger. Hard. The pale skin slipped from his mouth, following his hand as it traced down his jaw, tracing his jawline and trickling down his neck.

  
“Nine.” The fingers brushed over pretty collarbones, and Draco stretched himself upwards, arching into his own touch, lips twitching. All sense of sanity had left Harry by now, and he felt himself staring openly at what he had now deemed ‘the most erotic sight he’d ever seen’.

  
“Ten.” Draco gave one final arch, before sliding to an elegant stop and lowering himself back to the floor. All the while, his now dark eyes never left Harry’s. Harry tore his gaze down to his lap, eyes unfocused as he shifted uncomfortably, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants and drawing his knees closer.

  
“Potter.” Draco’s voice rang through the silent room, and Harry looked up in shock, eyes wide. _Did he know? How could he know? It wasn’t that obvious, was it?_ “Dare or dare.” Harry let out yet another relieved breath, briefly wondering if his poor heart was as exhausted from all the stopping and starting as he was. He ignored Dean poking Neville to take a shot.

  
“Dare.”

  
“I dare you to kiss me.” And that was all it took. Harry forgot about the other people gaping as he stumbled up and across the circle. He forgot all etiquette, all sense of dignity and responsibility as he lowered himself into a smirking Draco’s lap. He didn’t care that it was probably the alcohol making him do this, or that he’d probably regret it in the morning when he lowered his face, dipping his head and examining Draco’s face carefully. The blond’s eyes were blown with lust, his eyes wide and pupils almost completely gone. His hair was swept to the side, tickling his right eyebrow. His lips were slightly parted as he let out a deep breath through them, the warm air hitting Harry’s neck and traveling down his spine. Harry hesitated, lips hovering less than an inch about Draco’s. The very thing he had been wishing for over the past few months, right there; millimeters away.

  
“Harry,” Draco whispered, eyes meeting his and voice so soft, Harry barely heard it. “Kiss me.” And then they were kissing. And it was beautiful, and it was messy, and it was all Harry could ever ask for. One kiss should have satisfied him, but he ached for more as he reveled in the bliss which was Draco’s embrace. Harry pushed into the kiss, cradling Draco's face with his hands, stroking his fingers along the soft pale skin, documenting each and every sound Draco made as he kissed him. Harry arched his back, eyes flickering shut in bliss. He could feel the soft lusciousness of Draco's lips brushing against his, and his bottom lip was snagged between strong teeth, pulling and biting and nibbling. Harry let out a tiny whimper, rolling his hips in search of something- anything... Draco's tongue slipped inside Harry's mouth, caressing the cavernous insides. Harry let his hands pull the blond closer, and a low moan escaped into his mouth.

 

Harry suddenly realized that one kiss with Draco would never be enough for him. Neither would two. Or three. Or ten. Or even a hundred. He realized that he needed Draco. And not just his kisses. He needed everything. His stunning blue-grey eyes, and his pretentiously gorgeous blond hair. His snarky sense of humour. His strange rants he went on when he liked something, and the ones he went on when he didn't understand something in Muggle Studies. Harry needed everything. Every single thing. The good, the bad, and the Slytherin.


End file.
